The Fight For Her Life
by SupernaturalWhovian29
Summary: Lizzie comes down with appendictis while hunting a boggart with Sam and Dean. Thinking it's just a bad case of the flu, she ignores her symptoms. But as the days go by she becomes worse instead of better, and Sam and Dean begin to suspect that her condition is far more serious. Can the convince her to get to a hospital before it's too late? Please read and review
1. Chapter 1

The Fight For Her Life

Chapter One

Lizzie sat in the backseat of her friend Dean Winchester's 1967 Chevolet Impala, gazing dreamily out the window. It was late afternoon and the sun hung low in the sky, its rays shining off Lizzie's dark red hair, giving it the illusion that it was glowing. Lizzie yawned. They had been driving for the entire day, and by now, she was absolutely exhausted and couldn't way till they stopped at a hotel or motel for the night so she could get some rest.

Dean's younger brother Sam, had been dating Lizzie for a little over six months now, and he loved her more than anything. He gazed at Lizzie through the rearview mirror smiling lovingly as he reached behind his seat, and held his girlfriend's hand, and gave it a light squeeze. "You getting tired, Lizzie?" he asked gently. Lizzie nodded as she failed to stifle a huge yawn.

Dean smiled through the rearview mirror. "We'll stop somewhere soon,'' he promised her. Lizzie nodded, yawning, again, and continuing to stare out the window.

Lizzie was breathtakingly beautiful in appearance with long dark red hair, a slim figure, pale skin, eyes the color of molten gold, and wore square framed glasses, making her look intelligent. She _was_ intelligent! She claimed to have an eidetic memory, and an IQ of over 160. She was also very skilled with computers. Because of this, she was in charge of doing all the research when she went on a hunt with Sam and Dean.

She also took her religious beliefs very, _very_ seriously. Lizzie was raised a Christian, and when she began dating Sam, she told him that unless he intended to marry her, she refused to have sex with him, because that was just how she felt. Thankfully, Sam was very understanding, and told her that he could respect her views.

Dean turned on the turning signal on the Impala's dash and turned into a motel parking lot, taking the first available parking spot he saw, and turned off the ignition. Lizzie put her iPod and headphones back in her purse, stretched and got out of the backseat, and helped Sam unload their luggage from the trunk. Lizzie took out her suitcase, and her laptop, and put the strap around the handle of her roller suitcase, before helping Sam unload his things, and Dean went to book them a room.

Lizzie stretched again and cracked her back. "Ooh! I'm beat!" she yawned. Sam smiled. "Yeah, sounds like it," he said laughing slightly, as they made their way into the hotel lobby where Dean was standing at the front desk, still trying to get a room.

The man behind the desk was elderly – mid-eighties by the look of him, with thin, graying hair, prominent wrinkles and liver spots all over his face and knotted hands; when he caught Lizzie's eye, he smiled creepily at her, showing rotting teeth, making the hair on the back of Lizzie's head stand on end. The man also had a golden tooth in place of one of his front teeth.

"Here, ya go, sonny,'' said the man, handing Dean three room keys with a shaky hand as well as a jar filled with a strange liquid. "What's this?" asked Dean, holding up the jar. "Moonshine,'' the man behind the counter replied. "Made it myself,"

Dean smiled feebly. "Thanks,'' he said, as he took the three room keys, and Sam and Dean followed him to their room (Room 217).

The inside the room was no different than the other seedy motels that they had stayed in in the past. The walls were painted a faded avocado green color, the curtains were moth-eaten, and dusty. The bedspreads on the two queen-sized beds were the same hideous green color as the walls. The carpets were a boring gray color, and little puffs of dust rose into the air when Lizzie, Sam, and Dean walked across it.

Despite the crappy-ness of the motel room, Lizzie couldn't help but think _I've been in worse. _

Lizzie sighed heavily as she set her suitcase and laptop case onto the dresser, and began to unpack. Sam and Dean however didn't begin to unpack completely. Dean took out a container of salt, and began to line the windows, and door with it.

When he was done, Lizzie had already finished completely unpacking her suitcase.

"That was fast," Dean remarked, noticing the speed in which Lizzie unpacked. Lizzie smiled and shrugged. Dean hadn't known Lizzie for very long, and yet, she never ceased to amaze him. She was one of the most unique individuals he and Sam had ever met.

Lizzie went inside the bathroom to brush her hair, just as Dean suggested they get something to eat. Lizzie nodded gratefully as her stomach growled loudly.

Sam smiled and giggled softly, as Lizzie collected her purse and jacket before following Sam and Dean out the door.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

They stopped at a Chinese bar and grill fifteen minutes later. For then entire trip to the restaurant, Lizzie had her headphones in her ears, and listened to her iPod, until Dean pulled the Impala in the parking lot.

Lizzie took her headphones out of her ears, and put them along with her iPod in her purse as she got out of the car, and walked into the restaurant holding Sam's hand.

They sat down, and ordered their food. In the time it took for their meals to arrive, Lizzie and Sam became immersed in a conversation regarding the creature they were hunting – a boggart; a shapeshifter that transforms itself into your worst fear. Lizzie had come into contact with boggarts before, while she was being educated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and knew quite a bit about them. "What really finishes them is laughter,'' Lizzie explained to Sam, who was looking incredibly interested in what his girlfriend was saying.

"You need to force it to assume a shape that you find amusing,'' said Lizzie. "What's your worst fear?" asked Sam. Lizzie was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then – "Snakes,'' she said while shuddering.

Sam smiled but was interrupted by the arrival of their food. As Lizzie's plate was set in front of her, she looked down at it. She had ordered orange chicken, white rice, and two spring rolls – one of her absolute favorite meals. She began to drown her rice in soy sauce, picked up her fork, and began shoveling her food into her mouth. She was ravenous! Sam looked up from his plate, and raised his eyebrow as Lizzie. "Slow down, Liz!" he said, while laughing slightly. "You'll get a stomachache if you swallow it like that.''

Lizzie swallowed a mouthful of orange chicken and nodded, showing she understood, and began slowing the pace in which she was eating.

For the remainder of the meal, they didn't talk much. Occasionally Sam would smile or wink at Lizzie and she would respond by smiling back.

Perhaps it was due to the long journey in the Impala that Lizzie wasn't up for much conversation. On a normal day, Lizzie was a chatterbox! But understandably, this wasn't one of those days.

After about an hour, Sam paid the check and they left the diner. Lizzie continuing to yawn occasionally.

She got into the Impala, and took out her headphones and iPod, and turned on her music again as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and made the way back to the motel.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Lizzie would loved to have just crashed on the floor when they got back to the motel room, but she reminded herself that she still had to take her evening medications before bed (Lizzie had chronic insomnia, and took medication to help her sleep). She walked over to her suitcase and took out her pajamas – black silk with red piping on the neckline, arm and leg cuffs.

Once she was dressed, Sam gave her her medication, and she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Sam had taken down some blankets, and pillows from the closet, and arranged them in a little 'nest' on the floor for Lizzie to sleep in. Lizzie didn't mind sleeping on the floor rather than in a bed. This had been the arrangement since the day she met Sam and Dean.

Lizzie emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, and clambered into the nest on the floor, and pulled the covers up to her chin. She fell asleep almost immediately.


	2. Chapter 2

The Fight For Her Life

Chapter Two

Lizzie woke again to complete darkness. It didn't take her long to determine that it wasn't yet daylight, as she looked at her phone that she had left laying on the floor beside her, and pushed the power button. The clock on her phone read 3:15 a.m.

Lizzie sighed as she fell back onto her pillow, suddenly feeling wide awake. She could hear the soft snoring sound of Sam and Dean from the two queen beds not far from her. Lizzie snickered. _Cuties_, she thought.

She laid there on her back in her little nest for a while, trying to go back to sleep. But sleep wouldn't come.

_Ah, well,_ Lizzie thought, rolling over on her side, and coiling her arm around her stuffed bunny Winston. _Not the first time I've failed to sleep through the night._

She swallowed, then became aware that a wave of nausea had overtaken her. She swallowed again, trying to get back to sleep. But the nausea only seemed to increase. Minutes crept by like insects, and finally, only one thought remained in Lizzie's head: _Get to the bathroom NOW!_

Careful not to wake Sam and Dean, Lizzie slipped out of her nest, and crept to the bathroom, shut the door, and turned on the light, as she sank to her knees in front of the toilet bowl, holding her hair in her hands, as she vomited into the toilet.

She continued to dry heave for a few minutes even after there was nothing left for her to throw up. She groaned as she stood up, flushed the toilet, and walked over to the sink, where she turned on the cold tap and splashed some cold water on her face, and patted her face dry before turning off the light and heading back to bed.

As she lied down again, she thought _Maybe this is just one of those twenty-four hour flu deals – no big. I've had the flu before. Nothing I can't handle!_

However the nausea continued to linger long after her midnight trip to the bathroom. It was nearly six in the morning when she finally fell asleep.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Lizzie opened her eyes, and this time it was daylight. Sunlight splashed into the room, as she slowly sat up and stretched. Her nausea hadn't subsided. If anything she felt worse than she had before. She felt sweaty, and feverish; also another symptom had presented itself; an annoying, stabbing pain in the middle of her stomach. Lizzie moaned softly, and pressed a hand to her abdomen. _Strange_, she thought. _I didn't have this cramp last night. _

"Morning, Liz!" said Sam happily, noticing his girlfriend was awake. "Morning,'' said Lizzie as she slowly got out of bed. Sam handed Lizzie a cup of coffee and her morning medication, before kissing her on the cheek. Lizzie smiled, and took her meds, and sat down at a table with her coffee.

"Where's Dean?" asked Lizzie. "In the shower,'' said Sam, jerking his thumb in the direction of the bathroom door. "Ah,'' said Lizzie as she took a sip of coffee and winced. The hot liquid made the cramp in her stomach intensify. She moaned, and put her cup on the table, and doubled over slightly, while clutching her abdomen, breathing heavily, which did not go unnoticed by Sam.

"You okay?' he asked looking slightly worried. "Fine,'' said Lizzie breathlessly, and putting on a brave smile. "It's just a cramp – It's not gonna kill me."

"You sure?" asked Sam uncertainly. "Yeah,'' said Lizzie. But then she sighed. She hated lying to Sam. "Maybe I'm coming down with something…"

"Come here,'' said Sam, walking over to Lizzie, and putting a hand on her cheeks and forehead. "You're burning up. You're sure you're feeling okay?" "I'll be fine,'' said Lizzie, although she was internally cursing herself for not being totally honest with her boyfriend.

Fifteen minutes later Lizzie, Sam and Dean clambered into the Impala, and drove off to find somewhere to have something for breakfast. Lizzie, of course, wasn't hungry, however, she didn't want Sam or Dean to be too worried about her. She had the flu in the past, and was still able to go places. This was what part of what made Lizzie who she was. She was a tough girl; stubborn, determined, and hated showing even the tiniest bit of weakness. Unfortunately, these qualities would more often than not, get her into trouble.

This morning, Lizzie didn't bother putting on her headphones, or taking her iPod out of her purse. Dean gazed bewilderedly at Lizzie through the rearview mirror. "No music this morning, huh, Liz?" he asked. Lizzie said nothing and merely shook her head. Dean and Sam exchanged perplexed looks as they backed out of the parking lot and sped across the highway. As they drove, Lizzie rested her head in her hand, staring out the window, not paying attention to the pale cloudless blue sky, and the trees that were full of green leaves – it was a beautiful day, but Lizzie didn't seem to notice. Her nausea and cramps were getting worse and worse, and it didn't help that Dean ran over the curb when they pulled into the parking lot of a diner fifteen minutes later.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Lizzie swore under her breath as she doubled over, and bit her lip.

She managed to straighten up before either Dean or Sam noticed her distress. Lizzie took Sam's hand as she followed him and Dean into the diner. It was fairly occupied, considering it was only nine o' clock

A tall pretty girl with brunette hair cropped short into a pixie cut showed them to their table as they sat down. Lizzie sighed as she sat down. She wasn't in the mood to eat or drink anything. Her cramps were becoming worse by the minute, and yet, she didn't want to let it be apparent to either Sam or Dean that she was in pain.

Their waitress, a tall slender woman with blond hair and green eyes, came over to their table and ordered their food. But when she asked Lizzie what she wanted, Lizzie muttered "Oh, nothing for me thanks,''

"Are you sure?" the waitress asked. Lizzie nodded. "Let me know if you change your mind,'' said their waitress as she left.

By now, Sam and Dean were gazing worriedly at Lizzie. "What?" asked Lizzie when she noticed both Sam and Dean staring at her. "You're not gonna eat?" asked Dean. Lizzie shook her head, and said nothing.

"What's wrong Lizzie?" asked Sam gently, wrapping his arm around Lizzie's shoulder. Lizzie meant to say "Nothing,'' but her words were cut short as another stab of pain shot across her abdomen – a little more painful than when she first felt it when she woke up that morning. It was enough to make her gasp, and clutch at her stomach with both hands," "What?" asked Sam and Dean together.

"Stomach,'' Lizzie moaned, bowing her head against the pain, as Sam rubbed small circles into her back. "Do you wanna go back to the motel?" asked he asked. "No, no!" said Lizzie, looking up. "I'm fine!" "You sure?" asked Dean, not looking thoroughly convinced.

Lizzie looked up and forced a smile at Dean. "Yeah, I'm sure,'' she said.

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but he was interrupted by the arrival of his and Dean's food. The sight and smell of the food made Lizzie's insides squirm unpleasantly and she felt bile rise in her mouth. "Bathroom,'' said Lizzie as she quickly got up from the table and did her best not to run towards the ladies room. But halfway there, she succumbed, and broke into a run. She barely made it as she ran into the biggest stall, fell to her knees, and held her hair in her hand as she threw up. She continued to dry heave even after her stomach was completely empty. She then sat back against the cool tile wall, and took a few steady, deep breaths. She winced as the deep breathing was brought on by another intense wave of pain across her abdomen. She moaned, as she clutched at her stomach with both hands, and pulled her knees up towards her chest and bowed her head against the pain. _Okay_, she thought. _Maybe this isn't food poisoning after all._

Then what could it be? The flu? No, Sam and Dean weren't sick and she hadn't noticed any one in the vicinity exhibiting any flu-like symptoms. As far as she could tell, she was the only one who was sick.

Lizzie continued to sit on the floor of the bathroom, bewildered. _If it isn't the flu, or food poisoning then what the hell is going on with me?_ She thought as another stab of pain shot across her stomach again. She didn't bother to bite back the groan of pain that escaped her as she bowed her head again, and a few tears escaped her, as she sniffled and wiped them away. _No_! she firmly told herself. _Don't cry! You're too old to cry! Take it like a woman! You'll be fine!_

The thing about Lizzie was, she would almost never admit it when she was sick or in pain. She would either lie, or downplay the situation. She would only tell Sam or Dean if the circumstances were either serious or life-threatening. And in this case it didn't look like either or.

_I'll be fine!_ She thought, putting on a brave smile. _Nothing I can't handle! Sam and Dean don't need to know! They'd just worry!_

And with that, Lizzie stood up, flushed the toilet, and used a wad of toilet paper to mop her sweaty brow before washing her hands and exiting the bathroom.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

She noticed that Sam and Dean were huddled together, talking in an undertone, but they straightened up immediately when they noticed her approaching.

"Hey,'' she said as she sat down. "Hey,'' said Sam and Dean in unison; both of them had anxious, nervous expressions on their faces.

"You okay?" asked Sam. Lizzie wanted more than anything to say 'no', that she wasn't feeling better. Her nausea and cramps hadn't subsided. If anything, they were worse!

"Yeah,'' said Lizzie, finally. "I'm good.''

She didn't talk for the next forty minutes, and finally snapped out of her trance-like state when Sam poked her in the arm, asking her if she was ready to go back to the motel.

"Yeah,'' said Lizzie, grabbing her purse and walking out of the diner with her hand holding Sam's.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Again, when Lizzie got into the Impala, she didn't take out her iPod or her headphones. She simply stared out of the window, and held her face in her hands. She felt tired, and wanted to take a nap, but she didn't want to cause Sam or Dean to worry too much. She was always energetic even in those rare occasions when she would come down with the flu or a simple cold, she would still carry on with her day like nothing was wrong. Most people would take it easy and get plenty of rest, but this just wasn't Lizzie. It wasn't how she rolled.

A lot of times she would self medicate by indulging in one of her favorite pastimes: Playing the violin. She had been playing this instrument since she was seven and had become quite skilled at it.

Sam and Dean knew of Lizzie's talent and were incredibly impressed by it. They also knew that this was how she would lift her spirits if she was emotionally down, or just not feeling herself, physically.

As soon as they walked into their motel room, Lizzie plopped down on a moth eaten armchair and sighed heavily. Sam had taken out his laptop and began doing research on the boggart they were hunting. Dean had his nose buried in a book.

A minute later, Dean looked up. "Hey, Liz?" Lizzie said nothing. "You know that violin solo you were writing?" Lizzie shrugged. "Can I hear it? You promised you would play it once you were done!"

Sam gazed at Dean out of the corner of his eye, as Dean nodded to Sam encouragingly. "Yeah!" Sam piped up. "How 'bout it, Liz?"

Lizzie sighed again, and didn't look up. "I'm not in the mood,'' she sighed, as she began to pick at her cuticles.

Both Sam and Dean frowned and exchanged baffled expressions. Lizzie, not interested in playing the violin? This just wasn't like her! She never ever turned down an opportunity to run her bow across the strings of her violin and hear the beautiful sounds that it made.

"Come on, Lizzie!" Dean begged. "You are so good! I mean, most people would just kill to have your talent!" Lizzie looked up at Dean and smiled slightly. "Thanks Dean. I appreciate the compliment, but I just don't feel like it right now." And with that, she resumed, picking at her cuticles.

Sam stared slightly opened mouthed at his girlfriend, confused and shocked. Dean and Sam exchanged perplexed looks. Lizzie, not in the mood to play the violin? That just didn't make sense. In fact it was downright unnatural!

How could Lizzie's behavior decline so suddenly? She rarely got sick, and when she did, she always managed to keep her spirits up. Dean nudged Sam in the direction of the bathroom, signaling that he wanted to talk to him in private.

Sam nodded as he followed Dean into the bathroom, and closed the door. "That was weird,'' said Dean. "You're telling me!" said Sam. "What the Hell is happening to her? I mean, she never refuses to play the violin! It's her main passion aside from hunting!"

"I know,'' said Sam nodding sadly. "There's obviously something wrong with her if she's abruptly lost interest in one of her favorite activities!" "Obviously,'' said Dean. "But what?" asked Sam. Dean shrugged. "You're guess is as good as mine, Sammy,'' he said. "It's not just her losing interest in the violin,'' said Sam. "I mean, She's losing her appetite, she's throwing up frequently, and apparently her stomach is bothering her – I noticed when you ran over the curb when we pulled into the diner this morning, she was doubled over, and clutching her stomach!"

"What? I didn't hear her say anything!" said Dean looking startled at this new information. "She didn't want us to know,'' said Sam. Dean let out an exasperated groan. "Why is she doing this? Doesn't she know that she can come to us for anything? That's what we're here for!"

"Even if we tried talking, you know she would just lie to us and tell us she's fine,'' said Sam. "Let just let it go for now, Dean. Maybe she'll get better.''

"And if she doesn't?" asked Dean, looking worried again. "We'll – cross that bridge when we come to it,'' said Sam as he and Dean exited the bathroom.

Lizzie then said that she wanted to take a nap, and so Sam laid down the blankets and pillows the he used to make up her nest the night before.

Without changing her clothes, Lizzie removed her shoes, and clambered into her nest. She fell asleep almost immediately.


	3. Chapter 3

The Fight For Her Life

Chapter Three

When Sam, Dean and Lizzie got back to their motel room ten minutes later, Sam insisted that Lizzie take some Pepto Bismol to help her nausea and some Ibuprofin for her cramps.

"Just see if it helps!" he insisted as he held a capful of the pink liquid and two rusty-colored pills out to Lizzie.

Lizzie wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of ingesting the bubble gum pink colored liquid she so disliked. She had been given it as a child whenever she had the flu and would always be stubborn about taking it.

Sam narrowed his eyes at her. "Lizzie," he said. Lizzie sighed as she took the cap full of medicine from Sam and stared at it. "Come on, Liz," said Dean. "Just shoot it straight back – like a shot of whiskey!" Lizzie forced a small laugh. That's something you don't hear every day!

She nodded as she gulped down the pink liquid, as Sam gave her a glass full of water to chase it down with. Lizzie chugged down the water and gasped as she drained the last few drops from the plastic cup.

"You good?" asked Sam uncertainly, taking note that Lizzie's gasp sounded like she was in pain. Lizzie sat down on Sam's bed and said nothing, her right hand resting on her abdomen. "It's getting worse," she whispered. "Here," said Sam. "Take these, and hopefully they'll help. Hang on! I'll get you some more water, okay?"

Lizzie nodded as she stared at the two rusty colored pills in the palm of her hand. _Gosh!_ she thought. _I hope these work!_

Sam came back from the bathroom less than five minutes later carrying a full cup of water, as he handed it to Lizzie. Taking care not to accidentally spill it, Lizzie took the cup in her hand, put the two rusty colored pills in her mouth and chased them down with the water Sam had given her. "Here," said Sam, pulling out a thermometer from a first aid kit he kept with him, and putting it into Lizzie's right ear. There was a small _beep! _as Sam pulled the thermometer out of Lizzie's ear and read the number on the little screen:

"102.4" he muttered as Lizzie raised her eyebrows. Was it normal to have a temperature like that with the flu?

Lizzie rolled her eyes as Sam made little _tsk, tsk, tsk_, noises and insisted that she get some rest.

"Alright," Lizzie sighed as she got up and walked over to the moth-eaten faded armchair where she had put the blankets and pillows that made up her 'nest' and was just about to 'make her bed' when Sam stopped her and insisted that she sleep in his bed. "No, really Sam, I'm fine!" said Lizzie. "Sleeping on the floor will mess up your back," Sam pointed out. "You already have scoliosis, you don't want to have spinal issues and the flu, do you?"

Lizzie smiled. She knew she couldn't argue forever and knew that Sam was just waning to make her as comfortable as possible given the fact that she wasn't feeling well, and gave in.

But before getting into bed, she put on her nightie that she had worn to bed last night, as well as a pair of socks and a hoodie, before climbing into bed.

"Aren't you forgetting someone?" asked Sam playfully as he held up Lizzie's favorite stuffed animal; a white bunny rabbit with floppy ears and a pink checked bow around his neck. "Ah!" said Lizzie happily. "Thanks, Sam! I was wondering where Winston had gotten too!"

Sam smiled as he handed 'Winston' over to Lizzie as she tucked him into bed beside her. For someone who was down with the flu, she seemed to be taking it pretty well, Sam had to admit. Ah well, he thought to himself. "She's a tough girl. Maybe she'll get through this okay!

Sam tucked Lizzie in and kissed her on the forehead before settling down in the desk chair and opening up his laptop to do some research.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Lizzie's condition continued to worsen over the next few days. She spent most of her time sleeping in her little nest on the floor of the motel room, and making frequent trips to the bathroom to answer nature's call or to throw up.

Dean had taken the liberty of going to a nearby drugstore to pick up some Tylenol, Gatorade, and over the counter remedies for nausea.

Every three hours or so, Sam would give Lizzie two Tylenols, and a glass of Gatorade (which is packed with electrolytes), and hope that they would bring her some relief. Unfortunately his hopes were in vain.

He would have taken her to a doctor days ago, but the problem was they were in the middle of a ghost town – the nearest hospital wasn't for miles, and Sam knew that you didn't go to the hospital for something as benign as the flu.

Day in, and day out, Sam would watch helplessly as his girlfriend moaned, or cried out in pain while she struggled to sleep, her arms wrapped around her stomach. He knew there was something terribly wrong, with her, and he wanted to get her help, but there was one problem: Lizzie had refused time and again, to see a doctor despite being sick for nearly three days now, with her symptoms showing no signs of letting up.

"I swear, Sammy," said Dean impatiently as stood in the doorway of the hotel room bathroom as Sam ran a washcloth under the cold tap.

"You've got to take Lizzie to a doctor!" Sam sighed as he wrung the excess water out of the washcloth, while shaking his head. "She refuses to go," he said sadly.

"You can't just sit by and let her suffer like this!" said Dean angrily. "I know!" said Sam miserably. "What can I do, Dean? I can't force her to go!"

"You gotta do somethin' soon,'' said Dean. Sam sighed as he nodded and exited the bathroom with the damp washcloth in his hand.

Lizzie was laying on the floor in her little 'nest', one arm curled around her stuffed bunny, Winston, the other wrapped protectively around her midsection.

Sam gently placed the cloth on Lizzie's forehead as she moaned but didn't stir.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

As the days continued to come and go, Lizzie spent most of her time either making frequent trips to the bathroom to throw up or sleeping in her nest on the floor of the motel room.

Sam worried the most about Lizzie's condition, mainly because he was Lizzie's boyfriend, and felt he had good reason to worry despite Lizzie's reassurance that it wasn't anything serious.

Finally, Sam couldn't take it anymore. But instead of taking Lizzie to a doctor, he decided to ask for advice from Castiel, an angel and also one of Sam, Dean, and Lizzie's closest friends and allies.

"Castiel," Sam whispered. "I need some advice, so if you could fly down here for a moment…"

"You don't need to whisper, Sam," came Castiel's gravelly voice as Sam looked up. "I could hear you just fine,"

But Sam shook his head, pressed a finger to his lips and pointed at Lizzie who was sleeping on the floor. "Oh!" said Castiel. Sam jerked his head toward the door, showing that he would like to go outside and talk.

Castiel nodded as he followed Sam out of the room.

"What's going on, Sam?" asked Castiel. "You look worried."

Sam sighed heavily before replying. "I-It's Lizzie,'' he said, concern emphasized in every syllable.

Castiel nodded. "I noticed she did not look well when I saw her. What's wrong?" he asked, now looking worried too. Sam shook his head. "We don't know. Lizzie is refusing to see a doctor, and I don't want to force her to go,"

"How long has she been ill?" asked Castiel. "Three days," replied Sam. "And she's been getting worse,"

"What are her symptoms?" asked Castiel, looking just as worried as Sam. "She's been complaining that her stomach hurts, she's been nauseous, she's been throwing up like, every ten minutes, or so, and she won't eat – you should see her – she looks like a zombie!"

"Hmm," said Castiel thoughtfully. "And she won't see a doctor because…?" he asked.

"I suspect she's afraid," said Sam. Castiel gazed perplexedly at Sam. "Afraid of what?" "Needles mostly," said Sam. "And she also doesn't like being a waste of people's time. She might also be concerned that they might just give her painkillers and not really do anything to help,"

"Hmm,'' said Castiel again. "What do _you_ think is wrong with her?"

Sam shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said. "She doesn't get a period every month, because of the type of birth-control that she uses, so it can't be menstrual cramps, I doubt it's the flu, because Dean and I haven't gotten sick, and as far as we can tell, no one else in the general public seems to have it either…."

"I do not know, Sam," said Castiel. "I'm sorry, I wish I could be of more assistance to you."

Sam smiled appreciatively. "No, it's okay, Cas, really!" he said reassuringly. "I just needed someone to talk to that's all," Castiel smiled. "That's what I'm here for," he said.

There was a fluttering of wings as Castiel disappeared.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Hey!" said Dean as Sam walked back into the motel room. "Where were you?" "Talking with Cas," said Sam. "And?" asked Dean, not looking up from the book he had been reading when Sam walked in. "He hasn't got the faintest clue as to what is going on with Lizzie either," said Sam. "I told him about her symptoms, and he was just as stumped as we are now!"

"Damn! Lizzie's stubborn!" said Dean irritably. "I mean, she's been sick for what, three days now? The poor girl must be in agony, and yet she still refuses to see a doctor? I mean I know she's tough and all, but no one's _that_ tough!"

"I know," said Sam sadly

Lizzie moaned, and stirred. But as she sat up, another wave of pain shot across her stomach, causing her to cry out, and double over. "Oww!" she moaned. "Hey, it's okay, Lizzie. Just take it easy alright?" Sam said soothingly as he helped Lizzie lie down again. He then reached into the plastic shopping bag and took out a bottle of Tylenol, and a bottle of Gatorade, and poured the blue liquid into a cup and gave it to Lizzie along with the Tylenol. Lizzie popped the two white pills into her mouth and washed them down with the Gatorade and lied down again, one arm still clutching at her stomach.

Sam pulled the blankets up to Lizzie's shoulders and kissed her on the forehead before walking back to the table.

Dean was looking slightly shocked at the degree of pain Lizzie was in. What sort of illness could cause that much pain in an individual? He knew that Lizzie wouldn't say anything; just keep on denying that it was nothing more than a bad case of the flu, but Dean knew deep down that this was something far more serious. And he intended to find out what.

After a few minutes, Dean turned to Sam. "Wanna go get a drink?" he asked. Sam let out a grateful sigh. "Yeah, sure!" he said. He needed something to distract him from his worries and his ill girlfriend.

After asking Castiel to look after Lizzie, and making him swear not to leave her for one moment, Sam and Dean left the motel room.


	4. Chapter 4

The Fight For Her Life

Chapter Four

Dean and Sam got into the Impala, as Dean turned on the ignition and the Impala's engine roared into life and they pulled out of the parking lot of the motel, and sped down the road in search of the nearest bar. Dean stared at Sam. "Sammy? You okay?" asked Dean, as he got out of the car. Sam was quiet for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I'm just worried about Lizzie, that's all."

Dean put a sympathetic hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay," he said soothingly.

Sam sighed and nodded.

They found an all-night bar about fifteen minutes away from the motel, as Dean turned on the turning signal and turned into the parking lot, and took the nearest parking spot he saw.

Once he was parked, he shut off the ignition and Sam and Dean got out of the car and walked inside.

The bar smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and liquor, as Sam and Dean took two empty seats at the bar, and ordered their drinks.

Sam immediately started to talk about Lizzie, and what the hell could be making her so sick, but Dean, on the other hand, was more interested in the pretty blonde girl who was bartending.

Sam sighed, and snapped his fingers in front of his older brother's face. "Hey! Dean! You hearing me?" he asked somewhat impatiently.

"Uh, yeah,'' said Dean, unconvincingly. "What?"

Sam sighed impatiently. "We were talking about Lizzie?" Sam reminded him, with his eyebrows raised. "Oh,'' said Dean. "Right.''

Sam sighed as he took out his laptop, set it on the tabletop and turned it on. "Why couldn't you have picked someone less stubborn to be your girlfriend, Sammy?" Dean groaned. "Shut up!" Sam growled, looking slightly hurt. Dean smiled apologetically. "Sorry,'' he said. "I didn't mean that. I love her as much as you do, but seriously, Sam! She can really piss me off, sometimes,"

Sam smiled. He knew what Dean meant. Lizzie, like everyone else in the world had her flaws and little things about her that were annoying, but Sam loved her enough to look past all those things.

"What are we looking for?" asked Dean. "Anything that can give us clues as to what is making Lizzie sick. She takes really good care of herself, so she rarely becomes sick at all!" said Sam. "What are her symptoms? Let's start there!" Dean suggested. "Good thinking,'' said Sam. He typed Lizzie's symptoms into the search engine, and several sites popped up at once. Sam chose the first one he saw (Web MD), and searched the site, for any illnesses or conditions that might match Lizzie's symptoms. "What about an ovarian cyst?" asked Dean pointing at the screen. "I doubt it,'' said Sam, shaking his head. "It says that they go away on their own,"

"Within a few weeks it says,'' Dean corrected him. "It hasn't been that long – only three days!"

Sam waved away Dean's correction. "Whatever,'' he said as he continued to search.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Back in the hotel room, Lizzie was bent over the toilet in the bathroom throwing up for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening. Castiel cringed at the retching sounds of Lizzie's vomiting, and after nearly fifteen minutes, Lizzie emerged, one hand on the door frame, and another over her midsection. "Sorry,'' Lizzie moaned. "What for?'' asked Castiel kindly. "Sorry you had to hear that,'' said Lizzie as Castiel wrapped an arm around Lizzie's shoulder and helped her back to her nest. "It's alright,'' said Castiel as Lizzie laid down in her nest, and Cas covered her up.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam and Dean were still researching when it reached midnight. "Ugh!" Dean groaned. "Sammy, we've been researching for hours, and we've found nothing!" Sam sighed, he was getting tired, and his hopes of finding out whatever could be making Lizzie so ill were low.

"I know,'' he sighed. "Maybe we should go back to the hotel,'' Dean suggested. Sam rubbed his eyes; and longed for his motel bed so he could get some rest. Maybe they could continue their research in the morning. But then…..Sam's tiredness was replaced by a horrible feeling in his gut – a feeling that there was something really wrong with Lizzie. His motivation to find out what was wrong with her increased again, and he suddenly felt wide awake.

"No,'' he said. "What?" Dean asked, while failing to surpress a huge yawn. "No,'' Sam repeated. "I'm gonna keep looking,'' said Sam. "You can go back to the motel if you want to, I'm staying here,''

Dean's impulse was to say 'okay' and leave, but he knew that Sam wouldn't have any way to coming back to the motel, and Dean wouldn't be too happy with being woken up by Sam calling asked to be picked up.

"Okay,'' said Dean as he ordered himself another drink.

Sam continued to search for the next half hour, then found something promising. "Huh!" he said. "What?" asked Dean, while taking a sip of whiskey. "Take a look at this,'' said Sam turning his laptop toward Dean so he could get a good view of the screen. "Appendicitis,'' he recited, frowning at the computer screen. "What the hell is that?"

"According to the website,'' said Sam, turning the computer back towards himself. "it's when you're appendix becomes infected," "What is an appendix?" asked Dean. "It's this organ that basically does nothing but sit there – there's no known function for it as far as we know,''

"Then why the hell do we have one to begin with?" asked Dean. Sam shrugged. "Beats me,'' he said as he continued to search the website. He clicked on an icon that read symptoms, and a page linked to the same site popped up. Sam's eyes scanned the page. The symptoms for appendicitis included, abdominal pain (that usually becomes worse over the course of several hours), loss of appetite, vomiting, nausea…..

All at once everything seemed to fall into place, and a metaphorical light bulb when on in Sam's brain. "That's it!" he whispered.

"What's it?'' asked Dean. Sam turned his laptop towards Dean so he could see. "Look,'' he said. Dean gazed at the computer screen for a moment, then a look of astonished realization crossed his ruggedly handsome face. "You think this is it?" he asked. "What else could it be?" asked Sam as he began to sound excited.  
"I mean, think about it Dean! Her stomach pains, her throwing up constantly, her loss of appetite – it all fits!" "Maybe," he said.

Sam was looking bemused. "What do you mean 'maybe' Dean?" he asked, sounding slightly hysterical.

"Well," said Dean. "We haven't looked at the other illnesses and diseases that are listed on this site…"

"Screw the other stuff!" shouted Sam, standing up, which made a few people nearby stare. "Dean, this is the answer! I know it! This is what's been making Lizzie so sick for the past three days!" Sam said, lowing his voice to a whisper.

"Even if this is the reason why Lizzie's been so sick for the past three days, why hasn't she – hang on! Move the cursor over the history tab again!"

Sam obeyed as he moved the little tab on the menu bar at the top of the computer screen and was shocked by what he saw; Lizzie had searched for information on appendicitis the previous day and looked at the contents from the same website that Sam and Dean were looking at.

"What's that?" asked Dean, inching closer to get a better look. He only had to take one look at the dropdown bar that listed Lizzie's internet history that showed the site that they were on, before sitting back on his barstool, a look of pure shock on both his and Sam's faces.

"Oh, my God!" he gasped. "She knew!" Sam breathed as he gazed at Dean, and Dean stared back.

"She knew that she might have appendicitis, and she didn't say anything?" Dean asked, a tone of outrage in his voice. "Why the hell would she do that?"

"She was afraid, I guess," said Sam, shrugging. "Afraid of what?" Dean snapped. "I suspect that she was afraid that we would worry about it…"

"Damn right we would worry about it!" Dean shouted as more people began to stare. But Dean ignored them.

"Come on, Dean!" said Sam. "You know her! She doesn't like to show weakness!"

"How long does it take for the appendix to rupture?" asked Dean.  
Sam looked back at the webpage that they had been looking at, and went to a tab that was listed as **complications**.

"On average, it takes about twenty-four to seventy-two hours," he said.

"Three days," said Dean, looking more worried than ever now. "Lizzie has gone past that time limit without going for help! Sammy, we've got to help her!" Sam nodded. "Mm, I suppose we should. I don't know about you Dean, But I personally can't bear to see her suffer anymore! I mean, she is my girlfriend, and…" "Yeah, I know, Sammy, I know," said Dean.

"Only one problem though,'' he said. "Oh?" asked Sam. "Lizzie is very adamant that it's only the flu. We're gonna have a hell of a time trying to convince her otherwise. She won't agree to go to a hospital unless we can convince her that what she has is serious."

"Cas hasn't called or anything has he?" asked Sam after an awkward silence. "What? Oh, no! I don't think so," said Dean, pulling his phone out of his pocket and looking at it as he spoke. "No, there are no missed calls, no texts, nothing!"

Sam looked perplexed. "Don't you think that's a bit – I don't know, odd, that he hasn't checked up since we left the motel room?"

Dean laughed. "Relax Sammy, Cas is looking after Lizzie, and I'm sure that the only reason he hasn't checked up is because everything is fine! Just take a chill pill and relax okay?"

Sam swallowed hard, and nodded,

But then the same feeling of dread and worry he experienced earlier consumed him once more. _Something's really wrong with Lizzie_ he thought.

Was he just imagining things?

"Listen, Sammy, let's just forget about Lizzie for a while and let's talk about something else okay?"

"Like what?" asked Sam. Dean was gazing flirtatiously at a pretty brunette girl who was sitting at a table across the room with who appeared to be her twin sister. "Wish me luck, Sammy!" he said as he straightened the wrinkles in his shirt, and smoothed his hair before walking over to the table where the girls were sitting.

Sam sighed as he gazed into his half-full glass of whiskey. "You seem down," said the bartender; a pretty slender blonde girl, with emerald green eyes and a heart shaped face with fair skin. Sam sighed again. "I've just got a lot on my mind," he said.

The bartender refilled his glass and leaned forward on the countertop. "Do you wanna get out of here, with me?" she purred, as she stared seductively into Sam's hazel eyes.

"Ah, actually, I hate to burst your bubble, but I'm already taken," said Sam as he swallowed and pulled a picture of Lizzie out of his wallet and showing it to the bartender.

The moment she set eyes on the picture, she looked extremely jealous. "On the house," she said coolly nodding at Sam's refilled glass of whiskey and walked on the opposite side of the bar to take some new customers' drink orders.

Sam sat there, not touching his drink and thinking about Lizzie, and how she was doing.

After a while, Sam gazed at his watch. It was nearly midnight, and his eyes itched with tiredness.

But then the same feeling of dread and worry he experienced earlier consumed him again. _Something's really wrong with Lizzie_ he thought. As he walked out of the bar with Dean at around two in the morning, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that Lizzie was in trouble.

Was he just imagining things?


	5. Chapter 5

The Fight For Her Life

Chapter Five

As Dean drove the Impala down the interstate, Sam had become unusually quiet. He would normally be chatty, and want to discuss Lizzie, but now, he was as quiet as a mouse.

"What's on your mind Sam?'' asked Dean a moment later. "Nothing,'' said Sam. "Nah! Don't give me that crap,'' said Dean. "What's wrong?" "I'm worried about Lizzie,'' said Sam. "Yeah, that makes two of us,'' said Dean. "No, I mean I just have this feeling that something is wrong – really wrong,'' said Sam. Dean frowned. "I don't understand,'' he said. "It's hard to explain,'' said Sam. "Try me,'' said Dean. Sam took a deep breath. "Okay,'' he sighed.

"Something's wrong, Dean,'' said Sam. "With Lizzie?" asked Dean. "Yeah,'' said Sam. "I just can't shake this feeling that something is wrong with her – It's like….I don't know! Like she's dying or something.'' "What?" asked Dean while laughing slightly. "No way! I mean, she has been under the weather for the past few days but she hasn't shown any signs that she's near death! Don't worry, Sammy! You're just worrying too much."

Sam sighed. Was Dean right? Was he just worrying too much?

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

They pulled into the parking lot of the motel five minutes later, Sam still maintaining a worried expression on his face. "Relax, Sam!" said Dean. "Lizzie's fine!"

"I'm gonna go check on her,'' said Sam. Dean nodded. Sam got out of the Impala and took a room key from his jacket pocket. Once he got to the door of their room, he slid the card key into the lock and opened the door.

Cas appeared to be bending over something and there was a pained moaning sound, and Sam could tell that it wasn't Cas. He cautiously walked into the dimly lit room, and saw a mane of dark red hair, from beneath the hem of Cas's trench coat. "Cas!" Sam said as he walked over to him. Cas stood up, and Sam got his first good look at Lizzie. What he saw made him gasp. Lizzie was curled up in a fetal position, her face stark white, and sweaty, and her eyes were screwed up in pain. Cas stood up looking incredibly worried. "I do not know what's wrong,'' he said, as Sam gently pushed Cas out of the way.

"Lizzie?" asked Sam, as Lizzie opened her eyes. "What's wrong?"

Lizzie moaned. "My stomach! It really hurts!" she moaned as she bowed her head against the pain. Sam put his hand against Lizzie's forehead. Her temperature was higher than when he last checked it just before he and Dean had left for the bar. "Oh, my God!" Sam breathed, his eyes moving from Lizzie's pale face to her stomach, where he noticed just how desperately she was holding her hands against it.

Sam wrapped his arm around Lizzie's waist and tried to get her to stand, but she resisted. "Ow!" she cried, tears streaming down her eyes as she fell to her knees, and wrapped her arms more protectively around her midsection.

Sam, now seeing that Lizzie couldn't stand without suffering unbearable pain, he wrapped one arm around her "I need you to lay down on your back, Lizzie,'' said Sam. "Why?" Lizzie moaned. "I just wanna take a look at your stomach,'' said Sam.

Lizzie tried, but any movement whatsoever was like agony to her as she moaned and a few tears escaped her eyes. Sam supported her back and slowly helped her lay down.

He gently put his hands on Lizzie's stomach, and immediately Lizzie winced and Sam withdrew his hands. "Did that hurt?'' he asked. "No," said Lizzie, moaning. "Your hands are freezing!" Sam breathed into his hand to warm them up, and began to apply gentle pressure to all areas of Lizzie's midsection, occasionally asking her if it hurt more when he pressed down or when he let go. Because her degree of pain was so intense, Lizzie didn't reply at first. Then she said that it was about the same. Sam pressed down gently onto the right side of Lizzie's stomach, and this time, she cried out in pain, and more tears escaped her eyes. "I'm sorry!" he said, removing his hand immediately. "Just breath through it, Lizzie. I won't do it again, I promise,'' said Sam, stroking Lizzie's forehead in a comforting way.

"Sammy?" came Dean's voice from outside. "In here Dean!" Sam called. There were footsteps as Dean made his way into the room, and his jaw dropped slightly when he caught sight of Lizzie, lying on Sam's bed in unbearable pain. At first, Dean said nothing but just stared at Lizzie with a look of shock on his face. He felt terrible for dismissing Sam's worries and wished that he had taken him more seriously.

"Dean, there's a first aide kit in my duffle. Could you get that for me?" asked Sam, holding onto Lizzie's hand as she continued to moan in pain. "Sure,'' said Dean as he went over to Sam's duffle, and began rummaging through it, looking for the first aide kit. He finally found the familiar white box with the big red cross on it, and handed it to Sam as he set it beside him and opened it up. There were bandages, antiseptic, anti-venom for snake bites, cotton balls, thread and needles for sewing up deep cuts, a thermometer, painkillers – and finally Sam found it – a stethoscope; a souvenir of Lizzie's days in med school.

Sam took it out of the first aide kit, and put the earpieces inside his ears and put the chestpiece onto Lizzie's stomach, listening. He couldn't hear a thing. Sam had no medical training whatsoever, but his instinct told him that wasn't a good sign.

"Hear anything?'' asked Dean apprehensively. Sam took off the stethoscope, folded it, and put it back into the first aide kit, and took out the thermometer. "Nothing,'' said Sam. "I'm not a doctor, but my gut tells me that's not a good sign." Dean nodded as he watched Sam take Lizzie's temperature – 104.8! "Damn!" Sam breathed as he put the thermometer back in the first aide kit and latched it shut.

He stared at Lizzie with a worried and pitied expression on his face. He knew that he needed to get Lizzie to a hospital if she did have appendicitis- and he was betting that she did, but he knew that Lizzie would put up quite the argument about it. To her it was just a case of the flu.

And at the same time, he knew he couldn't leave her like this. She needed help, and he didn't care what it took to make sure she got it.

"Lizzie, I'm thinking we need to get you to a doctor,'' said Sam, trying to sound calm. "No!" said Lizzie defiantly. "Liz,'' said Sam gently. "I know you hate hospitals, but look at you! You've been sick for three days now, and you're getting worse instead of better! I don't think….." he swallowed, choosing his words carefully. "Lizzie, I don't think this is just a simple case of the flu,"

Lizzie stared at Sam. "What else could it be?" she asked. Sam swallowed again. He didn't want to scare his girlfriend, but then again, she needed to know what was most likely going on. "I think – Lizzie I think you might have appendicitis," said Sam. There was a hint of 'there-I-said-it,' in his voice.

But instead of being scared, or confused, like Sam had expected, Lizzie sighed amusedly. "No way!" she said. "Come on, Sam! It's a common disease, right? No biggie!" "Just because it is common doesn't mean it isn't serious, Lizzie,'' said Sam.

Lizzie breathed in through her teeth and moan as another bout of pain attacked her abdomen. "Ow!" she moaned, as she began to hyperventilate slightly. "Shh, it's okay,'' said Sam stroking Lizzie's face in a comforting way.

Lizzie tightened her grip around Sam's hand, not speaking. Only the sound of her labored breathing could be heard. Finally, after Sam talked with her a little more, Lizzie agreed that her condition was indeed serious, and wasn't going to go away on it's own, and therefore she needed help.

"I'll go start the car,'' said Dean, as he and Cas walked out of the room, and Sam helped Lizzie to sit up, and they began the agonizing journey out to the Impala.


	6. Chapter 6

The Fight For Her Life

Chapter Six

"Come on, Lizzie. Small steps…You can do it. I've got you,'' said Sam as he helped Lizzie walk out of the motel room and across the parking lot to the Impala. "Sam…" Lizzie moaned as she held one hand over her stomach, as more pain attacked her abdomen like knives. "It hurts!" "I know it does, Lizzie. We're almost there. Come on," Sam encouraged. Lizzie took one more step, and fell to her knees moaning and crying at the same time, clutching her stomach and doubled over in pain. "Come on Lizzie," said Sam as he tried helping her up again, but Lizzie resisted. "I can't…I can't," she moaned, tears spilling down her pale face. Sam stared at Lizzie helplessly and looked over at Dean, who was in the driver's seat of the Impala, He appeared to be having trouble.

"Come on, Baby!" Dean growled as he turned the key in the ignition. The car engine spluttered and turned off. "Come on, Baby! Don't do this!" Dean pleaded as he tried again. Again the engine spluttered and turned off.

"Stay here for a minute, okay, Liz? HEY! CAS!" Sam yelled and Castiel ran over to him. "Stay with Lizzie for a moment okay? I'm gonna see if Dean needs help," said Sam. Castiel nodded and knelt down beside Lizzie and began to try and comfort her.

"What's going on Dean?" asked Sam, walking up to the Impala. "Ugh! The damn car won't start! I'm sorry Baby!" said Dean a minute later, rubbing the dashboard lovingly. "I didn't mean it!" Sam laughed slightly. "Aw crap! You've gotta be kidding me!" said Dean.

"What?'' asked Sam. "We're out of gas!" Dean groaned. "Are you kidding me?" asked Sam, disbelieving. "Yeah! I thought I filled the tank this morning!"

"How could we be out of gas?" Sam wondered aloud. "Beats me,'' said Dean. "What do we do?" asked Sam. "We can't go anywhere if the car won't run."

"Go back into the room and stay there till we work out a plan, I guess," said Dean. Sam nodded as he walked back over to where Lizzie was still on her knees on the asphalt, doubled over and clutching her stomach, Castiel rubbing small circles into her back.

"Car's out of gas," Sam informed Castiel. "We can't go anywhere if the car can't run. Got any spare angel mojo, by any chance, Cas?" he asked hopefully. Castiel shook his head sadly. "I can barely teleport anymore, Sam, I'm sorry," said Cas, and he truly looked it. "It's okay,'' said Sam, smiling understandably. He then put his arms around Lizzie and attempted to get her back on her feet, but like before, Lizzie resisted, saying it hurt her too much to make even the slightest movement. Sam, then put one arm around Lizzie's waist and the other under her legs, and lifted her off the ground easily as though she weighed ten pounds rather than a hundred and eight, and carried her back into the motel room.

Once they were inside, Sam set Lizzie down on his bed once more, and Lizzie immediately curled up into a fetal position, moaning, and clutching desperately at her abdomen.

Dean came in a few moments later. "What now?" asked Dean. Sam shrugged. "Dunno,'' said Sam. The situation did seem hopeless with the car out of gas and Castiel unable to teleport. To make matters entirely worse, the nearest hospital wasn't for miles! The town that they were staying in was a ghost town – old buildings, no residents – nothing.

Sam sighed and stared over at Lizzie as she clutched at her stomach, moaning in pain.

He walked over to her, and knelt down beside her and held onto her hand, muttering comforting words to her.

Lizzie had begun to shiver. "Are you cold?" asked Sam. Lizzie shook her head, "M'fine,'' she moaned. "Liar," said Sam, smiling slightly, pulling the covers out from under Lizzie's body and draping them over her. "Thanks," "Sure,'' said Sam, brushing her sweaty outgrown bangs out of her face.

Even with the blankets covering her, Lizzie continued to shiver, which didn't go unnoticed by Sam He rummaged in his duffle and found a small box of matches.

He walked over to the dusty, spider infested fireplace and lit a small fire, in the hopes that it would bring some comfort to Lizzie.

"How far is the nearest hospital?" asked Sam, trying not to sound desperate. "More than an hour away,'' said Dean sadly. Sam groaned. How the hell were they going to get Lizzie to a hospital? Dean immediately flipped out his cell phone and called the first person he could think of: Bobby Singer, a fellow hunter, and the closest thing he ever had to a father.

"Hello,'' came Bobby's gruff voice after the phone ran twice. "Bobby?" asked Dean, not bothering to mask the worry in his voice. "What's wrong?" asked Bobby, sounding worried too. "Bobby, it's Lizzie,'' said Dean. "She's sick – really sick….Bobby I don't think she's gonna….."

Dean looked at Sam who had tears in his eyes as he shook his head at his older brother as if to say 'don't say that!'' "Lizzie needs to get to a hospital now, and we have no way of getting her there. The Impala's out of gas,'' said Dean. "What about Cas?" asked Bobby. "He can't do anything,'' said Dean sadly as Cas gave Dean an apologetic look. "Where are you?" asked Bobby a moment later.

"We're in Missouri,'' said Dean. "Balls!" Bobby growled. "Dean…." Lizzie moaned. Dean looked over at Lizzie who by now was struggling to remain conscious due to the pain, and was beginning to hyperventilate.

"I gotta go – sorry!" said Dean as he hung up the phone. "How you doin' Liz?" he asked gently kneeling down beside her. "Not good,'' Lizzie moaned as she sighed. "It's over,'' Sam frowned, looking confused. "Lizzie, what are you…?" he asked. "It's my fault,'' Lizzie moaned. "I should have come to you guys when I first noticed that I wasn't feeling good, but I decided to be stupid, and ignored it, and now look at what's happened!"

"You didn't know,'' said Dean consolingly. "I'm gonna die, Dean,'' said Lizzie. "I can't be moved, I can't walk on my own – nearest hospital isn't for miles – I'm done for, and you can't do anything."

"Elizabeth Scout, you stop talking like that!" said Sam fiercely. "Sam…" said Lizzie. "Unless you've got any better ideas….."

She moaned and rested her head on the pillow as Sam stroked her forehead. Dean got up and motioned that he wanted to talk to Sam and Cas alone for just a moment.

Sam moved to stand up, but Lizzie grasped his hand as if to say 'don't leave'.

"Dean just needs to talk to me for a moment," Sam reassured her. "I'm not leaving the room, I swear.''

Lizzie nodded as Sam walked over a considerable distance across the room to talk to Dean. "What do we do?" asked Dean. "Lizzie's right, we can't take her to the hospital – not with the car broken down, and Cas fresh out of angel mojo…" "What are you suggesting?" asked Cas. Dean shrugged. "I don't know what to think right now, Cas,'' he said honestly.

"Say she does have appendicitis, and I'm betting she does,'' said Sam. "Me too,'' said Dean.

"What are the treatment options for appendicitis?" asked Sam. "Antibiotics," said Dean. "But that's for less serious cases, and I doubt you can get those at Walgreens." "What else?" asked Dean. "Surgery," said Dean. There was a pause. "We could do it ourselves,'' he suggested. Sam stared at Dean. "No! Absolutely not!" said Sam. "Sammy…" said Dean. "I'm not letting you perform amateur surgery on my girlfriend!" Sam hissed.

"What other choice do we have, Sam? Do you want Lizzie to die?" asked Dean. Sam's chest clenched painfully and his eyes began to sting at the thought of Lizzie dying. "No,'' said Sam. "But…" "Well?" asked Dean. "The car isn't gonna run, Cas is out of angel mojo – We're kinda out of options here!"

"Dean, please…" Sam begged. "Got any other bright ideas?" asked Dean. Sam went over to Lizzie's purse (she had put an Undetectable Extension Charm on it), and began rummaging through it to find something – _anything_ that might help the situation. Sam felt the soft sleeves of blouses, heels of shoes, leather spines of books, and then something cold as he pulled his hand out of the purse. It was the jar of moonshine that had been given to them when they first arrived in town.

All at once reality seemed to hit Sam like a blow to the head. It really did seem like they couldn't do anything to help Lizzie without the car running, and they were in a part of the country where they had the worst cell service, so there was no chance they could call for an ambulance. Unless they got her help soon, Lizzie would die. Frustration, worry, and fear consumed Sam, and in the mix of all these emotions he threw the jar of moonshine angrily into the fireplace. The jar shattered and a huge fireball ignited, nearly setting the room on fire. For a moment, both Sam, and Dean stared at the fireplace, shocked at what had just happened. Then they exchanged shocked and perplexed looks. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Dean. "That we can use the moonshine for fuel for the Impala?" asked Sam, starting to smile. "Yeah!" said Dean. "Only one problem though,'' said Sam. "That was our only jar."

"We'll ask the dude at the front desk if he has any more!" said Dean. "Sounds good to me,'' said Sam. "Cas, watch out for Lizzie, okay? We won't be gone long,'' said Dean. Castiel nodded as Sam and Dean walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam, and Dean raced into the lobby of the motel and skidded to a halt in front of the front desk. Sam slapped the palm of his hand on the tiny bell on the desk over and over. A few minutes later the elderly man appeared from behind the desk. "Can I help you two boys?" he asked. "Yes, sir. Do you have any more moonshine that we can have?" "Oh, of course!" said the man, smiling. "Follow me,''

The man led Sam and Dean to a vault-like room back behind the front desk. Stacked to the ceiling were shelves upon shelves of moonshine. Sam and Dean began to take as many jars as their arms could hold, and they were just about to turn and walk out of the vault when they were stopped. The man that had shown them the vault was holding a shotgun in his hands, and was pointing it straight as Sam and Dean.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

"Whoa! Whoa!" said Dean, sounding startled. "Just take it easy, okay? Put down the gun." The man smirked. "I'll surrender this gun when you surrender the one you boys have," he said. Sam and Dean exchanged perplexed expressions. "What are you talking about?" asked Sam. "I know you boys have the Colt,'' the man said. "How would you know that?" "An outside source told me," the man replied. "Demons?" asked Sam. "The point is I've been looking for that gun for years, and let's face it, there's no reason or anyone should know that this exists at all."

Sam and Dean were quiet. Here they were being held at gunpoint, while Lizzie was back in the motel room, in agonizing pain, and possibly dying. All Sam wanted was to get back to her.

"We can't give you the Colt,'' said Dean. "It's one of a kind."

The man's smirk widened. "I know,'' he said gruffly. "That's why I want it."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. If their situation wasn't hopless enough before, it sure was now! Now they had to choose between Lizzie's life and the Colt.

But then, Sam remembered something. Back when his father John was alive, he had tried to trick some demons by giving them a replica of the Colt. It was a fake, but a very convincing one. What if, by some miracle, they still had it?  
"You didn't think I'd let you leave town with the Colt did you?" asked the man slyly. "You syphoned the gas out of my car?" asked Dean, outraged. The man nodded. "I had to keep you boys here somehow,'' he said.

"Please,'' Sam begged. "My girlfriend is dying! We need to get her to a hospital…." "Give me the Colt, and I'll let you be on your way,'' the man said.

"We can't do that,'' said Dean. The man shrugged. "It's your choice,'' he said. Sam and Dean exchanged desperate looks. They needed to take Lizzie to a hospital, and this man was holding them unless they handed over the Colt.

Then, Dean had a sudden idea.

"Okay,'' said Dean. "We'll give you the Colt. It's in my car," he said. "Go get it then,'' said the man, as Dean walked out of the hotel lobby.

Sam stared as he watched Dean walk out the door. "Please," Sam begged. "My girlfriend is dying! She needs to get to a hospital! Why do you need the Colt?"

"I told you,'' the man said. "I've been looking for the Colt for years,"

"Are you a hunter?" asked Sam. "I'm not at liberty to discuss that,'' said the man as Dean walked back into the motel lobby with the Colt in his hand. "Here," said Dean. "Now can we please go?"

"Go on then,'' said the man, putting down his shotgun and taking the Colt in his hand, examining it, a gleeful expression on his aging face.

Sam and Dean gathered the jars of moonshine in their arms and quickly left the motel lobby.


	7. Chapter 7

The Fight For Her Life

Chapter Seven

Sam and Dean burst through their motel room door. Lizzie was still lying on the bed, barely conscious, and Castiel was kneeling beside her holding her hand. Sam immediately rushed over to Lizzie, and brushed his hand across her face as Lizzie opened her eyes and moaned softly. "How are you doing, Liz?" asked Sam. Lizzie moaned again and shook her head. "My stomach still hurts,'' she moaned, her arms still wrapped protectively around her midsection.

Dean walked in beside Sam "I'm gonna fill up the car," he said. Sam nodded and watched Dean walk out of the room then turned back to Lizzie, still holding her hand.

Lizzie was hyperventilating now, and her face was mingled with cold sweat and tears. Her eyes were red from crying, as Sam took a hand and brushed a few tears away from Lizzie's eyes as she continued to moan. "It's gonna be okay, Lizzie,'' Sam soothed. "Dean's starting up the car. We're gonna get you out of here soon,"

"About time." Lizzie moaned sarcastically, and Sam forced a laugh.

"Cas, go and see if Dean needs any help would you?" asked Sam as Cas nodded and exited the room.

Lizzie all of a sudden let out a scream of pain and Sam immediately looked concerned. "Lizzie? Talk to me! What's wrong?''

Lizzie curled up into a tight ball clutching her stomach with both hands, breathing rapidly. "The pain…It just got worse," she moaned, as more tears spilled down her face. "Your stomach pains?" asked Sam as Lizzie nodded while hyperventilating. Sam gazed helplessly at Lizzie for a moment, then made a move to pick her up. The slightest movement was like agony to her as she screamed again. Sam's chest clenched painfully as he fought back his own tears hearing his girlfriend's cries of distress. _I can't take it anymore!_ Sam thought to himself as he wrapped one arm around Lizzie's waist and anther underneath her legs and carefully lifted her off the bed, and tried not to run as he left the hotel room.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

Sam quickly walked out into the parking lot carrying a crying Lizzie as he opened the left back passenger seat and carefully put Lizzie inside and shut the door before going around to the right side, opening the door, and sitting beside her. "What's going on?" asked Dean, noticing Lizzie and looking worried. "Let's just get out of here, please Dean," Sam. begged. "Okay,'' said Dean. "What's going on though?" "I don't know!" said Sam. It was a lie. Sam speculated that this new, more severe onset of pain meant that Lizzie's appendix had ruptured, and he knew that they couldn't wait any longer to get her to a hospital.

"Step on it, Dean!" said Sam as Dean climbed into the driver's seat of the Impala, and shut the door.

Dean floored the gas pedal as the tires squealed and they sped out of the parking lot and onto the highway. Sam continued to hold Lizzie's hand as she continued to cry and moan in pain. "Can't you drive any faster Dean?" asked Sam desperately. "Not without getting a ticket, no!" said Dean. Lizzie moaned as they ran over a speed bump. "Sorry, Lizzie!" said Dean, cringing apologetically.

"Ow! How much farther?" she asked, bowing her head against the pain. "I don't know, Liz,'' said Dean honestly. "About an hour, hour and a half maybe."

Lizzie moaned again. "I can't wait that long! It hurts so bad!" she moaned as she sobbed into Sam's shoulder as he squeezed her hand.

Dean gazed at Lizzie with a pitied expression on his face through the rearview mirror. Her eyes were drooping and she slowly began to drop her head onto Sam's shoulder. She was losing consciousness. Sam noticed this and lightly shook Lizzie. "Lizzie? Come on sweetie! Stay with me! Come on!" Lizzie didn't respond as her head continued to drop onto Sam's shoulder. "Lizzie?" Dean yelled. "Come on, sweetie, you've gotta stay awake, come on!"

Sam cringed. He hated the thought of what he was about to do, but then, he had to make sure Lizzie stayed conscious. He put his hands onto Lizzie's stomach and gently, very gently applied pressure. Lizzie moaned and her eyes snapped open. "What the hell did you do that for?" Lizzie moaned. "That hurt!" "Sorry,'' said Sam apologetically. "You were passing out – I needed to make sure you stayed awake."

Lizzie moaned and put her head back onto Sam's shoulder and squeezed his hand, moaning. A few times she gasped and moaned and the same time, and a few times she would almost scream. The pain was obviously really harrowing, and Sam wanted more that anything to reach the hospital soon.

**SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN**

At last, at long last, Dean pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, and shut off the ignition. Sam got out and helped Lizzie to her feet, but as her feet hit the pavement she screamed and nearly fell to her knees like she had done back at the motel.

Sam tightened his grip around Lizzie's shoulder "Dean, help me!" he said as Dean took Lizzie's other side, and they began to help her into the hospital enterance.

"Help! We need some help!" Sam yelled as a nurse in blue scrubs ran to them. "What happened?" she asked. "It's my girlfriend – she's been sick for the past three days and she hasn't gotten any better, I think she's dying! You've got to help her! The nurse nodded and two orderlies came running in with a gurney as Sam set Lizzie onto it. She moaned, and curled up into a fetal position as she was wheeled along long corridors with lights that were too bright, making Lizzie's head spin, and her vision obscured, and finally into a small private room.

She was given a hospital gown, and Dean waited outside the curtain that had been drawn around the gurney as Sam helped Lizzie out of her pajamas and into the hospital gown. Lizzie's brow furrowed as Sam helped her pull her arms into the sleeves. "Ugh! I've always hated these things…." She said as she moaned again.

Sam smiled as he tied the gown, and helped Lizzie to lie down again. She had begun to shiver and beads of cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Dean, seeing Lizzie in such discomfort, shrugged off his leather jacked (that used to belong to his father, John), and handed it to Sam, nodding to put it over Lizzie. Sam gave his brother a 'are you sure?' kind of look, knowing how much that leather jacket meant to him. Dean nodded, giving Lizzie another pitied expression.

Sam took the leather jacket from Dean and draped it around Lizzie. He then, reached up a hand, and began stroking her forehead consolingly.

The curtain was pulled back and a woman, in a striped shirt, black pants, high heeled shoes, and a lab coat emerged. There was a stethoscope in the pocket of her lab coat, and she wore square framed glasses, and had red hair (though in a lighter shade than Lizzie's), pulled back in a high ponytail as she introduced herself as Dr. Reynolds. "I understand you've been ill for the past three days?" Lizzie, who was in too much pain to speak nodded. "What are your symptoms?" Dr. Reynolds asked. Lizzie didn't say anything as Sam recounted her symptoms over the past three days, and mentioned that he was her boyfriend, and introduced himself, and Dean.

"Lizzie, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask this, is there any chance at all that you might be pregnant?" This caught Lizzie's attention and this time she was able to speak. "No!" she said. "Absolutely not!" Dr. Reynolds raised her eyebrows. "You're sure?" she asked. Lizzie nodded, as she moaned again. Sam then went on to explain (much to Lizzie's embarrassment) that Lizzie was virgin. "Ah," said Dr. Reynolds, making a note in Lizzie's chart. Blood, and urine samples were then taken, along with Lizzie's temperature. Dr. Reynolds then took out her stethoscope. "Now, let me take a look at your tummy, okay?" she said. Lizzie didn't look too pleased with her midsection being probed again, but nodded, as she squeezed Sam's hand harder.

Dr. Reynolds put the ear tips of the stethoscope in her ears, and the diaphragm on Lizzie's abdomen. She moved the diaphragm all across Lizzie's abdomen, listening for any abnormalities, just like Sam had done back in the motel room. After a while, she took off the stethoscope and began to gently feel various spots on Lizzie's stomach. She barely had to press down when Lizzie screamed. "Sorry!" she apologized as more tears spilled down her increasingly pale face.

"It looks like she might have appendicitis,'' said Dr. Reynolds. Dean and Sam exchanged 'I knew it!' expressions then turned back. "It can be hard to diagnose but I'll be able to tell for sure when the results of her bloodwork comes back,"

"More waiting then?" asked Sam. "I'm afraid so," said Dr. Reynolds. "But hopefully, it won't be for long," "Will she be okay?" asked Sam apprehensively. "I don't know Sam,'' said Dr. Reynolds honestly. "If she does have appendicitis then it is essential that we react quickly. If it is left untreated, there is a risk that her appendix will rupture."

"Which means what, exactly?" asked Sam, looking worried. "It means that the bacteria in the appendix begins to attack the abdominal cavity resulting in severe infection. If this happens it can be deadly."

Sam swallowed hard. "Well that's comforting,'' said Dean sarcastically. "I'll get back to you when I know more,'' Dr. Reynolds said as she left the room.

"Why didn't you say anything, Lizzie?" Dean demanded angrily. "More still, why did you refuse to see a doctor? We could have gotten you help sooner!"

"Sorry,'' Lizzie moaned. "I didn't want you to worry," "Smart move,'' said Dean sarcastically, as Sam shot Dean a look that clearly said _'leave her alone!'_

Lizzie groaned loudly and clutched at her stomach, with both hands, her eyes screwed up in pain. Sam rubbed small circles into her back. "It's gonna be okay," he said comfortingly. "Ugh, kill me now!" Lizzie moaned. "What?" asked Sam, unsure of what he had heard. "Kill me," Lizzie repeated, more tears streaming down her face. "At least the pain will be over…" "Lizzie stop talking like that!" Sam commanded. "We're gonna get you help. Everything's gonna be fine!" he said, as he continued to stroke Lizzie's forehead.

Lizzie screamed again, and, Sam stood up. "I'm gonna find a doctor,'' he said. "No!" said Lizzie, looking slightly scared. "Lizzie, I have to find you some help!" said Sam, as he made to let go of Lizzie's hand, but Lizzie held fact to Sam's wrist. "Please….don't go…!" she whimpered as she screamed in pain again.

Sam's heart broke as the sight and sounds Lizzie was making. He looked over at Dean who gave him a look that said, "Go find help! I'll stay with her,"

But he knew that Lizzie wasn't as close to Dean, so instead of leaving his girlfriend's side, Sam shouted for help until he felt like his vocal cords would tear.

Dr. Reynolds came back, and this time she was dressed in a surgical gown and cap. "Lizzie definitely has appendicitis and it appears that it has already ruptured, so we have to take her up to surgery immediately,"

Sam nodded as Lizzie was wheeled out of the tiny exam room, and Sam followed close behind, maintaining a grip on Lizzie's hand. She refused to take her eyes off him.

"Sam…." Lizzie moaned, struggling to stay conscious due to the increasing pain. "I'm here, Lizzie,'' said Sam, still holding onto her hand. "You're gonna be just fine, okay? Don't worry." Lizzie nodded, but she still looked worried, still crying.

"We have to take her up, now," Dr. Reynolds informed him. "Sam…." Lizzie moaned, this time there was desperation in her voice. "You're gonna be fine, Lizzie," Sam said soothingly as he was gently held back. But as he let go of Lizzie's hand her purity ring slipped off her finger and into Sam's palm.

TO BE CONTINUED! PLEASE REVIEW!


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